London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady
by Lirumi
Summary: Suddenly there was hell. Flames everywhere. A London on fire. And a broken Nation. USUK
1. Chapter 1 The Meeting

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Chaper 1. The Meeting (PART 1)**

The day began on a good note. England was happy that he wouldn't be needed at he current world meeting that had started today, and was set for the next 3 days in Greece. It was a special meeting, where they discussed what they would do to help some of the countries that had been affected they most in the recent economic depression, alas why the meeting took place in Greece. The countries present at the meeting was mostly the ones in the EU, but also the northern countries such as Canada and America where to be present, due to the fact that they were big and important countries. He sighed at the thought of America. He, really, was glad he was let off the hook this time. He was to tired to think of handling an overly energetic American and a sleazy perverted Frenchman. Really now, wasn't he allowed some peace At least? Hadn't he had it rough enough during his many centuries worth of living as the representative of the United kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland?

Apparently not. He sighed once more, as he was standing in his bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He was happy about Scotland now taking his place, or so to speak, to represent the United kingdom at this meeting. Scotland, on not so friendly terms with him, had objected, but had been forced by his boss to attend, though they had been hit pretty hard on their economic too, and was therefore obliged to attend the meeting. England, knowing about this, quickly took it as his chance to skip out of the meeting, just this time. They really didn't need two countries to represent the United kingdom. When Scotland heard that England wasn't going to attend, he had thrown a big fit, screaming and cursing and, what he had heard from his boss, broken one or two of the furniture in his office in rage. He furrowed his brows and sighed, again. Really now, was he the only one acting like an adult? Still watching his reflection, his eyebrows still in a frown, but with eyes now filled with worry. He wasn't only happy about getting some much needed days of from his schedule or not needing to bother with annoying meetings and countries. No, he hadn't really felt so good these last couple of days. It wasn't that he felt sick, no he was used to being sick now and then, to his own annoyance since many thought of him as weak an fragile even when he wasn't sick. It clearly didn't make anything better by him being sick so often as he was. But no, this wasn't him starting to get sick. It was something else. But what? This worried him slightly and he had a bad feeling , growing by each day, deep in his gut...

No, he thought as he shook his head. This isn't going to solve anything by me pondering about, he told himself. It's better to just let it go for now, and try to relax for a bit. Yes, that sounded just right, he thought as his lips rose into a small smile.

"I think Im going to boil myself some tea..." he mused,as he walked out of the bathroom and slowly made his way down the stairs, down to the kitchen.

. . .

The meeting had been an handful. Messy, as usual, but with much more tension and much more screaming. The topic about money and the economy was always very, very sensitive to many countries and many took a lot of offense when some stated an complaint about their government or their bosses way of handling the economy and ruling the country.

But still, the meeting was very quiet. The usual jabbering and fighting between a certain English man and Frenchman was something so natural now, that the meeting hardly felt like a meeting without it. It showed, clear as a day, that France was bothered by this to. He was used to always tease and harass his fellow nemesis whenever they met, and when he heard that he wasn't going to be present at the meeting in Greece, he tried to act like nothing.

"Ah, finally I don't have to lay my eyes on that ugly face of his, non? That's a lovely thought indeed, he had said and laughed. Even at those word, everyone knew that, deep down, France really did care for England, and that he was worried about his absent.

A person that wasn't even trying to hid his disappointment about England not being at the meeting was a certain blond and blue-eyed American. He had heard it from Canada, who had been at the meeting earlier. But since the one representing the United States of America was prone to be late, he had, per usual stormed into the meeting, declaring that "The hero had arrived! with a high laugh and soon his eyes had been roaming the room for a pair of eyes, more specifically a pair of emerald ones. When he couldn't find them, he had turned to Canada , questioning. "Where is England?" he asked with a confused expression on his face.

After Canada had then explained that he wasn't present because Scotland was there instead, representing the United kingdom. After taking in the information, the super-power had pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he let out a loud whine.

"That's so not cool! So unfair that England don't have to be at the meeting!" He pouted once more, as Canada, slightly embarrassed by all the commotion, shuffled him down in his seat next to him, so that they could, finally, start the meeting.

The meeting was boring as it ever was, and soon America found himself bored to his wits end. He leaned his head against the hard wooden table they where sitting at and lazily watched the nations surrounding him. He growled in frustration. He really missed England. He hadn't seen him for months, and since they were not in an all so good relationship as of right now #Well, better now than before the world war II, but still.# he couldn't just show up at his place every now and then #Even though he did, and that quit a lot# without a good reason to do so. He always claimed that he only came because his boss wanted him to convey something for him or that he had to maintain their "special relationship" and what not. But most of the times they were all lies. He wouldn't ever dare to tell anyone that he visit him because he wanted to be in his company, to be near him. And especially not to England.

These feelings he felt, he had know for quiet some time that it wasn't just any normal kind of friendship that he felt when he was around England. No, where was something more. He had just been to stubborn to admit it, that it finally was his brother who had confronted him about it. Yes, he really didn't want to be just an ally, or even a friend to Arthur. He wanted more. He blushed slightly when he caught himself thinking about his former mentor in such a way and he shook his head as to get the thoughts out of his head.

Really, he only thinks of me as a child anyway, he thought as he sighed, resting his head on his palm.

Canada noticed that his brothers eyes was off somewhere else, and he knew that always meant that he thought about England. He chuckled and smiled softly. It really was a shame that the red string of fate was only visible for everyone, except for those that it really mattered.


	2. Chapter 2 And It has Begun

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Chapter 2. And it has begun -Attack-**

After a cup of calming earl grey, England felt much better as he sat down to continue knitting the new bedspread he had been working on for quite some time. He had many times cursed himself for starting such a huge project, but at the same time he needed a challenge, and frankly he was tired of knitting pillows and tea covers. He had enough of those already.

He clicked his tongue as he started to remove the two roads of knitting he just had done. Really now, this is the second time he did the same mistake!

"What's wrong with me today", he thought tiredly as he started anew, while studying the pattern beside him thoroughly. As the day went by, the clock turning early afternoon, England had been having a lovely, well needed quit time for himself. This was rare, though more than often a very loud American would storm in at about this time, turning his peaceful day into chaos. It really did seem that the young nation didn't have anything better to do than to annoy him, or so it seemed some days.

England sighed at this. He wouldn't admit it, and that especially to himself, that he did in fact enjoy the other nations company. Well, from time to time at least.

Actually, he might even say that he had a special place in his heart for him. I mean, he had been the one raising him as a colony, and when he was small he had loved him most dearly. But this time it was different.

After the revolution, their relation hadn't been very good, and it was only as of late that they had been on much friendlier terms. As Allies. And maybe even as Friends.

But it was not as merely a friend that Alfred held a special place in his heart. No. It was something else.

Not that he ever would tell him. No, no bloody way in hell! England was content at keeping it to himself, instead of taking his chances (really now, what chances) and get rejected.

I mean, why in the world would he love me?, England thought.

_But I do. I really do love him._

When England realized in what direction his thoughts suddenly had wandered he blushed deeply and buried his face in his knitting. Really now, what was he thinking! he thought as he peeked out from the half done bedspread. Admitting it, even if only in his own thoughts, was hard, and I made his heart clenched when he thought about how it could never be true.

A lone tear then suddenly fell from his eye, and upon realizing that England quickly wiped it way with his sleeve.

"No point in crying about it" he said, as he looked down on his knitting needles to try continuing what he was currently doing before his thoughts interrupted him. "Shedding tears won't change a thing."

...

America couldn't take it anymore. He had to get out of here! he thought, as he restlessly jumped up and down in his seat. Couldn't it be lunch sooner! he whined, as he grimaced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was not even close to lunch time yet.

"Oh man",he sighed as he slumped even further in his seat, causing Canada to glare at him, and telling him to sit up straight and pay attention to the meeting. Really, Canada was acting just as England would in these kinds of situations.

A sudden sad expression was then plastered on the americans face. "I miss England...", he mumbled quietly as he hit his head on the table. Nobody heard, except a rather amused Canadian.

...

Even though the meeting had taken a rather fun spin two hours or so before lunch, when a certain ex-nation decided to crash the meeting, upsetting a very strict Germany. Germany had yelled so loud that many of the nation's now were afraid they might have lost their ability to hear.

America had just laughed in his seat at the silly Prussian, which had been chased around the room by his brother until he got kicked out by said, very enraged brother.

Even with that little stunt, the lunch was far from there, America groaned as he continued to pretend to listen and being bored.

...

As England finally had managed to calm himself down, he began to try with his knitting once more. As he was just trying to do the first stitch, he felt a loud pounding in his chest, making him flinched in surprise and shock.

Before he had the chance to think about what had happen, another loud, and much stronger beat shook his entire frame, making him drop his knitting needles to the floor with a silent thud.

And then it all went to hell.

Another pounding in his chest made him drop on his knees, gasping for air as his hands wandered to his chest, or more precisely to his heart. It was pounding all too fast, making him shiver in pain on the floor.

From nowhere, another ripping wave of pain suddenly washed through him and he screamed. He was now on all four on the floor, gasping for air as new waves of pain ran through his body without ever seeming to stop, only growing more painful by the minute.

He tried to stand up, but failed when he felt the most terrifying feeling he had ever felt in his entire life. He didn't even care to muffle out his scream of pain when he felt his chest opening, as if he was being ripped open with a knife, and blood pouring out on his living room carpet. Panting, and holding in more screams he forced himself up, taking support from the doorpost as he heaved himself up on his legs. Blood dripping and oozing from various cuts all over his slender body made long trails as he stumbled towards the kitchen.

He needed to call someone. He needed to call his boss. Or else. Or else he was going to die ,England thought, as he grimaced as a new wave of pain ran over his back and spine, opening up a new wound on his left leg. He now had troubled walking, and soon he collapsed in the hallway, just infront of the kitchen. He then began to crawl, dragging his pain stricken body over the cold floor as his breathing got weaker and weaker and is arms where screaming of exhaustion.

Something was wrong. Really wrong. Someone had attacked him, but who and why?

His thoughts as his mind started to get foggy and his eyes cloudy as he began to have trouble seeing even a few meters ahead of him.

**"I'm going to die."** was the last thought that went through England:s mind as his eyes dropped and all went blank.

.

.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3 Realization

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Note: Sorry for the delay, I have had some troubles with this story,as this one is not so well thought through, as the others. And the ending is BLAH! , but I hope that you all will still enjoy it, to some point at least! Ciao~~**

**Chapter 3. Realization – A world in shock-**

**Part 1.**

**"Scheisse"** he muttered as he threw himself on the couch in one of the many break rooms in the building. "Why was everyone so boring?" The albino Prussian sighed in frustration as he made a grimace in disgust.

Well, Spain and France would normally be cool with screwing around on the meetings, but with fear of being lectured by his brother, they had stayed put, giving him an apologetic look.

"Hmf" he muttered.** "Cowards"**

With nothing else to do buried his head in the couch cushion and groaned in frustration. Turning his head on the side, he looked around the room to see if he could find something interesting to do, when his eyes fell on the TV remote that lay on the table before him. Grinning, he sat up and grabbed it and aimed it at the TV to see if it got anything worth seeing. As the TV screen lit up, the ex-nation was not prepared for what he now was witnessing. It took some moments before he really could grasp what he had seen or what he _saw, _occurring as of this moment on the screen. When it had sunken in, he froze. Chills went through him, making him feel sick at the sight, and he suddenly felt like he had swallowed a bucket of ice. As he snapped to reality he had no time to react as he sat up and began to run in the direction of the room the meeting was currently still being held. He didn't care of his brother would be mad at him for crashing the meeting (again). No. This was more important.

"Oh, fuck…" he swore under his breath as he sped up, running though corridors after corridors. He didn't look forward to the reactions of shock and pain from the other nations when he would tell them what was happening. And especially not to three certain nations, that all, held a fond heart for the one, whose Capital was currently…

_in flames._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

**_"30…29…28…27…26…25"_**

America was on needles, so to speak. He was counting down the seconds until the clock would finally turn 11.30 , and thus when he would be free. Well, free for an hour at least.

**_"15…14…13…12…11"_**

America shrugged that fine detail off, because an hour would be plenty of time to stuff himself full of hamburgers so that he would manage the remaining 4 hour of the meeting. "Ugh" he thought with a grimace. Not a very pleasant thought at all.

**"10…9…8…7…6…5"**

Americas eyes was glued on the clock above the door, ticking away.

**_"4…3…2…1-"_**

As he prepared to leap out of his seat, a loud bang could be heard as the door to the meeting room flew open with a mighty force. All of the nation's eyes instantly turned to the source of all the commotion.

In the door way stood no other than a panting Prussian.

When a certain German regained his senses after the shock of it all, his face quickly turned into a frown and as he stood up and walked towards his brother he was just about to speak up and tell him off for ruining the meeting,_ again_, when he stopped halfway towards him.

He had noticed that something was very different with his brother, as what the others had to, thus the silent that was still present I the room.

Prussia, who was known for being loud, obnoxious and a bit dense at times, had never looked so serious as he was now. Though he was still panting for air a bit (he must have ran far) his eyes where emotionless as he stared straight ahead, his stare showing a sadness so foreign and so deep, the others felt themselves drowning. No one still didn't speak a word, and for some of the nations it was quite a feat.

Breaking the silence, Germany cautiously to a step closer, suddenly very wary of his brother for acting so out of character.

"Bruder, Is everything alright?" he asked as he continued to walk towards him.

Prussia, upon being spoken to suddenly snapped up and his eyes were now somewhat back to their normal, mischievous, ruby color, full of life. Germany stopped and as he was about to open his mouth to speak once more, he got interrupted by a harsh sound, as Prussia took in a large intake of air and began to speak.

"Something terrible has happened, that will affect all of us, but please, I beg of you all to not panic upon hearing this." He said, solemnly as his eyes roamed over the seats of nations, stopping intentionally upon meeting with a pair of confused blue eyes and a worried pair of purple once.

"And especially some of you may not take this news so well" his eyes lingered a few seconds until his eyes turned down cast as Prussia was now looking down to the floor.

Many of the nation's now began to squirming in their seats and a somewhat irritated Chinese suddenly banged his fists into the table turning to the downcast nation with a somewhat of a scowl.

"What's all this about, aru? If this is some kind of joke it is not a very funny one, aru!" the Asian proclaimed as he stared at the man standing in the middle of the room.

"Yes, da. I agree with China." Russia spoke, his child like smile as ever plastered on his face. "And what do you mean when you said that some of us will not take the news the same way as the others? Does that mean that they are more affected or because they are simply weak, da?" he asked.

It then took only a second for Russia's message to sink in before all hell broke loose.

Several nations then began to argue about how they certainly were not weak and others were so much weaker and in a much worse position than they were.

Upon all the yelling, a few nations where still watching the Prussian as he was now shaking in anger upon the fight that just broken loose. Normally, Prussia would never turn down a fight, but now it was different. Arguing was the last thing they should be doing right now, he thought as he clentched his fist into a ball.

As Germany was trying to calm the fighting nation's down, a loud yell suddenly broke all the commotion and everything went silence once more.

All they eyes in the room then again turned to the ex-nation standing by the door, as anger was clearly shown on his face and in his shaking posture. Fierce red eyes glared at them, and they all held their breath at the sight. There was not much more terrifying than an angry Prussia.

"How dare you all fight in a time like this?" he snarled as he then stopped shaking and his eyes looked down on the floor again for a few seconds. As he was regaining his posture, he then looked up again, facing the others with eyes filled with regret and remorse.

His eyes locked with Americas as the words he had dreaded to speak slipped out of his mouth.

_"London is currently under attack"_


	4. Chapter 4 Realization Part 2

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Note: Sorry for the very long delay! I have had some troubles with this chapter, and I don't like how it ended at all... There will hopefully be easier this time now that I have this chapter over and done with. (even though it sucks, sorry!) :( I hope you will somewhat enjoy it anyway somehow. Please review, it makes me very happy :) Also, you can also come up with ideas on what you would like to happen and such if you like. I'm all open for new ideas to make this story more interesting!**

**Ciao lovlies!~~**

**Chapter 3. Realization – A world in shock-**

**Part 2.**

"England… is being attacked?"

The statement or question was uttered by no other than a startled Frenchman, who eyed the deflated Prussian with somewhat doubtful eyes as he glanced around his fellow nations for answers of some sort. The whole time America had stayed quite, but his eyes told a completely different story. First all you could see was confusion, but then the emotion had changed to a much more painful expression as the words started to sink into his conscious.

Suddenly a chuckle could be heard, and everybody's attention turned to the source of the noise. The one who had been laughing was no one other than America himself. No one said anything, as the sight in front of them was so out of the ordinary cheery American they all knew. America body was shaking ,as if he was in a tremendous cold, and then, suddenly he abruptly stood up from his seat, without any warning.

The chair he was sitting on hit harshly onto the ground, making a noise that cut through the tension filled room like a gunshot. His eyes, showing such vulnerability that no one ever allowed themselves to ever let any other nation witness, he then suddenly spoke.

"L-London… London is under attack you say?" he stammered out. "That can't be true" he stated. "No, how…how could that possibly ever be tru-" his voice was cut out mid-sentence, before he could finish his statement , by the push of a button, followed by a spark as a TV-screen lit up on the opposite wall of the round table they all were sitting at.

.

.

.

A handful of gasps and startled yells could be heard all throughout the room.

Japan stared with wide eyes at the scene on the TV, his kimono sleeve hiding his mouth in shock. The recent upset China now wore a sad expression on his child-like features. Beside him sat a very quiet Russia, whose child-like smile that always covered his lips was gone.

On the TV-screen, pictures and clips showed a destroyed and broken London, with several areas and buildings on fire, with thick smoke looming all over the city.

When the shaking camera showed the condition of the large tower that symbolized all that was England, a heart wrecking sob could be heard from America as he then fell to the floor, his legs no longer able to support his shaking form any longer.

A very pale Canada quickly hovered over his brother, who wouldn't stop shaking.

France had been awfully quiet, but his eyes showed a larger grief than you may think where ever possible. A painful and shaking sighed escaped his lips as he breathed out.

"Mon dieu" he muttered as he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his temples.

No one knew what to say and a silent that chilled the room like ice was currently surrounding the nations. A low voice broke the silence, after finally coming to his senses.

"Someone" he whispered out. "Someone needs to call England-san" a very much paralyzed Japan spoke, his eyes still glued to the TV screen and the pictures of the old clock tower, and various streets of London, that where bathing in angry orange flames.

France, upon hearing those words, snapped up from his daze and quickly grabbed his cellphone from his pocket, his fingers moving swiftly as he dialed the number he knew by heart since forever.

He panicked as several tones went by, and no one was answering. He paled when the call came to voicemail, and he slowly took his phone away from his ear, staring out into thin air, eyes wide.

"He doesn't answer." he said, as he turned his attention to the Northern brothers who was watching him with matching panic in their eyes.

A spark then suddenly lit in Canada's eyes and he turned to his brother, who he was kneeling beside.

"Alfred." he called out, trying to get his brothers attention. "Alfred you need to call Mr. Cameron!" he yelled out, panic and fear clearly slipping from his voice. It took a few seconds before America noticed that someone was talking to him, the voice only but a whisper in his mind before he snapped his eyes open, now hearing his brother shouting his name. He slowly turned to look at his twin, who's eyes where wet as if he was about to cry.

"Cameron…" he whispered to himself. The prime minister of Great Britain. England's boss. It all came to him in a flash and he reached into the pocket of his bomber jacket and fished up his phone, scrolling down his contacts until he found the number he was looking for.

Beads of sweat ran down his forehead as the tones from the phone went by, America restlessly dug his fingers into his pants, his nerves kicking in at full force. "Come on, Come on Come on pick up pick up!" he screamed in his head, and the seconds dragged by while the tones of the phone echoed through his head.

A click and a voice then spoke quickly as America woke from his daze.

"Mr. Jones, I'm awfully sorry but I don't have time to speak right now, as you already may know we are in the middle if an crisis and..."

_"England!"_ the shaken American screamed into the phone, his voice echoing throughout the room.

His sudden outburst made the man on the other line silent, and at loss of words.

"You have to go to England.. he's he's." he stuttered out, as he struggled to continue talking. "He doesn't answer his phone! You need to check on him, or else he could be... he could be..."

The prime minister huffed and a strained sighed escaped his lips, and by the sound of it he was nearly running, as his voice was strained with exhaustion.

"Yes I know Mr. America , and I do not want to sound rude, but don't you think we have already tried to contact Arthur since we first found out about the attacks? We are currently only a few meters from his house, and I assure you that you do not have to worry, I'm sure he will be just fine."

The words barley managed to escape the prime ministers lips before Alfred could hear a faint sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps over wooden floor. Alfred was just about to argue with the ministers words when he froze in his tracks when he heard several screams of surprise followed by curses.

"Bloody hell-" Cameron whispered out in the phone as he watched the scene in front of him with wide eyes.

What he saw was nothing he was prepared for. The view he witnessed before him was like that out of a crime scene. The small kitchen, that normally was a light yellow color, was painted in a wild scarlet pool of blood. Some of the men that had accompanied Cameron to their nation's home covered their mouth and noses, trying to block out the smell and not to vomit at the sight. In the middle of the kitchen, in a big pool of his own blood lay their precious motherland.

America stopped in his steps and he became stiff. He could feel that something was very wrong from the way the prime ministers breathing suddenly turned heavy and how he seemed to curse under his breath.

"What is it?" America all but shouted, his voice demanding answers.

After a few seconds a low murmur then could be heard from the other line of the phone.

**"Blood."** it said. **_"So much blood._**

A strained intake of breath then followed, and Cameron's voice came out in a whisper.

**_"I don't know if he will survive this America."_**

That sentence alone broke him.

He didn't know how, but somehow he had managed to hand his phone to Canada, who took it with questioning eyes. He could hear no more.

Eyes on the floor, the super power turned to the other nations in the meeting.

"They said that he may not make it." He declared in a unsteady voice, filled with sadness.

"There was blood." He then blurted out, reaching out for a nearby chair to keep himself standing. " He might… He might not" he continued to speak, even though his words came out slurred by tears that now were flowing down his cheeks. America covered half of his face with his hand and by a painful breath, he uttered his sorrow.

_**"England…"**_

_**.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.**_

_**Note: I would like to point out a thing about how I chose to portray America in this chapter. My thoughts is that he gets really emotional in these kinds of situations, and some of you may think that it's very OCC for him, but this is just my thoughts.**_

_**I mean, the one he cares about more than life itself, the one who raised him since he was born, is in a lethal danger and could die any minute. I mean, how would you react to hearing that the love of your life is lying in a pool of blood?**_

_**Well well, this is just my own opinion. We're all intitle to have one, and this is mine.**_

_**Peace out, duckies!~~**_


	5. Chapter 5 London Calling Part 1

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

******Note: Phew! Sorry for the wait! I really think I've made a huge mistake by not planning my stories ahead a bit more, therefor it gets difficult everytime I sit down to write, since I really don't have more than a few chapters planned ahead. *sigh* I hope you will enjoy anyway! And I'm sorry, but no England in this chapter! *spoiler* He will return in the next one though, so don't fret! I know you all want to know how he is, and well... You will see in time.**

******I really want to thank you all also for the review, it makes me happy! :D**

******ENjoy, Ciao~~**

******Chapter 4. London Calling - Broken-**

The two hours that followed after the phone call with the prime minister went by in a blur of emotions and panic. Many nations were not only in chock, but also in tremendous fear for their own lands safety.

Phone calls had gone through one another and tears had been shed in fear for their people.

But even while the tension in the building was thick, some of the nation's sought safety in each other, instead of turning to their own minds with their anxiety.

Among them were France, Germany, Italy, Russia, China, Japan and Canada - supporting a still very shaken America.

They sat in silence, still confined in the meeting hall, even though the meeting had long ago been canceled. None of them had gone more than a few steps outside the room, only for calling and contacting their individual bosses to check and get information about the condition in the world.

What they all had gotten to know where that almost every country had a hard time to grasp what really had happened and was still going on. No answers for why or who it was that had attacked England or Great Britain had yet to been answered, and to what it seemed, it would be a very long process to find the culprit.

When America had handed his phone to his brother, Canada had then gotten a better picture about the whole situation. After several attempts to pursue the very much panic-stricken minister to try checking the bleeding nations pulse, they had found out that it was there - Thank god- but that it was very, very weak.

When the news had gotten to France ear, he had gotten up abruptly from his seat, only to yank the phone from the quiet and mellow country's hands, and immediately order the minister to get their motherland urgent medical care. At first, the minister had suggested to take him to the nearest hospital, making the long-rivaled country flare up in anger, only to scold the shaken man for not thinking straight in these important times.

France had all right to get angry. For never would you take a nation, if it was not any other option, to a normal hospital. That was almost like revealing their identity openly, for no normal person would take lightly for wounds, or limbs that grew and healed at the pace of hours or sever injuries healing by days, instead of months.

After some time, France had finally gotten them to take him to the Royal medical institute, the place where members of the British royal family went to for their medical treatments and for possible injuries.

With that settled they had hung up the phone, and now all they could do was to wait for news about England's condition.

But, as you know, waiting is not really something a certain nation is very good at. And in his current state, his capability to "wait patiently" was even worse.

America, still quit shaken, but in much better shape than before, stood up from his chair, only faintly murmuring under his breath.

"What? What did you say?" Canada asked hoarsely, his eyes swollen from rubbing his eyes so much to keep the tears away.

America was already half across the room when he answered.

**"I'm going to where England is."**

Shock were evident in the nations pale face at those words and just as he was about to protest to his brothers idea, he got interrupted by his former mentor.

"I could not agree more, Mon Ami." said the French nation in a stern tone, as he also got up from his chair and started to walk towards the door.

Canada stared in confusion at the retreating nations as they closed the door behind them. He then in an attempted to clear his thoughts, turned to meet the eyes of the other fellow nations still present in the room. He knew just by the look in their eyes were he should be.

_**.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.**__**.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.**_

With a little help from Estonia, the three nations managed to get on a plane to London the following night. It was a feat, really, for not only England but also all of the Great Britain had almost canceled all the flights going in to the country. Fear was evident, and that more so when they finally arrived at Heathrow.

An airport is on a normal day very hectic, but now it was utter chaos. People running, yelling and security guards could be seen everywhere. Even France, who would usually act like the world's "Big brother", flared up in anger when they were asked for a forth body-search. It took some persuading from both of the northern countries to finally let the search go through without a certain Frenchman throwing punches. When they finally got themselves out of the airport, they went to catch a cab that would take them in to the city.

"Really now, I really do not see it! What would I possible have on me, that is so dangerous, that I did not have two minutes ago!" a frustrated France proclaimed when he jumped into the front seat of the cab. After telling the driver the address of their location, he slumped in his seat, giving a weary sigh.

America only gave a faint hum as an answer, while he took his seat in the backseat, soon followed by his brother. Canada, who had truly heard what the Frenchman had said, turned with a similar weary face like the rest of them.

"Francis, you cannot blame them for being careful." he said as he gazed at his brother, sitting on his right side, peering out the window. His eyes empty of emotions.

Canada turned his face towards the taxi window and bit his lip and closed his eyes.

It pained him to see his usually cheerful brother like this, so empty. So awfully weak and vulnerable.

_He hated it._

Because even though he sometimes thought that his brother was a bit too loud and obnoxious and that he got himself into others business way too much, he never wanted his brother to be this quite.

Canada swallowed hard, not surrendering to the tears that so desperately wanted to fall ever since they go the news, and when he was certain he had some control of his emotions, he turned to America once more.

"Alfred?" he said softly, as he watched his brother's hunched form, his eyes still watching the raindrops that traced themselves on the window like a spiders-web. At first, the American nation did not move, and Canada began to wonder if he maybe had not heard him. He was just about to call out again when he got interrupted.

"Yes Matt." a hoarse voice answered. Blue eyes meet his and they now showed nothing but pain.

Matthew felt his control over his emotions weaken and he therefor chose to look down his lap instead of looking into his brothers sad eyes.

"Alfred." he began. "I'm sure... I am sure everything will be alright." he voiced out, as he took Alfred's hand in his.

"Engl-" he said before he stopped himself. "Arthur will recover." Canada assured him, as he squeezed his brothers hand.

America, who had gotten himself in a daze ever since they had gotten onto the plane, now regained a little light in his eyes upon hearing his brothers words. With a small smile, he squeezed back.

"I hope so..." he emitted in a low voice smiled. "Thank you Matt."

The Canadian, slightly startled by the gesture, turned to his brother. Upon seeing his brother smile, even a faint and small one, he too could not help to give a small smile back.

In that moment, all seemed to be at peace.

But soon though, the harsh reality hit down on them when a voice interrupted them, and declared.

**"We are here."**


	6. Chapter 6 London Calling Part 2

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

******Note: Not so much England I am afraid. (I'M SORRY!) **

******But instead, it's much longer than normal. Hope you will enjoy... *HIDES UNDER A ROCK***

******Chapter 6. London Calling - Broken- PART 2.**

_He opened his eyes but there were nothing there. Only darkness._

_He felt himself panic and he opened his mouth to scream. Nothing came out, not even a tiny noise. Not even a whisper. He tried to walk, but his limps were not moving at his command._

_From afar the man could suddenly hear strange whispers talking a mile a minute. The voices got louder and louder the closer they got and the man's panic only grew in intensity._

_He trashed and kicked, trying, trying so desperately to flee, to escape this terror and this darkness. Hands were now on him, clawing and dragging him towards a tiny source of light, that he now clearly could see in the distance. He tried in vain to struggle out of his restrains but the hands were strong and only dragged him farther. Fear got to him and before he knew it, a fearful shriek escapes his lips only seconds after the light swallowed him whole._

.

.

.

* * *

America watched the tall building before him, and he swallowed hard. This was it. In this building was England.

It was a struggle for him to even walk the few meters towards the door, and he noticed that it was hard for the others too. France walked ahead, his steps confident, but his blue eyes shimmered in worry.

Canada walked with America, their long strides almost in sync. While inside the small lobby of the medical institute, they encountered a very pale businessman standing beside a young lady by the front desk. They seemed to be talking in hushed and frantic whispers not wanting anyone to eave slop on what they were saying.

When the man got noticed of their presence, he paled even more. He said something to the lady before he walked away from the desk towards the three awaiting nations.

His glance turned first to the side and then to the floor before he met the cold stare of deep blue eyes, belonging to the French nation. The man gulped but kept his eyes steady with the taller man before him.

"Mr. France, sir?" the man asked, his voice a bit shaky.

Not moving an inch, France gave only a small nod as recognition.

With that, the man seemed to relax a bit, now turning his gaze towards the two boys standing beside him.

"And this is Mr. America I presume?" he said as he looked at Alfred, then turning to look at the long-haired twin. "And you sir…?" he asked uncertainly, his eyes puzzled.

A tired sigh escaped the young man's lips. "It's Canada." He replied solemnly, his purple eyes turning somewhat dark as he looked the small man right in the eye.

"Ahhh… right!" the man stuttered out, feeling very nervous of the whole situation.

France, who had been quiet the entire ordeal, had started to grew impatient as he gave a small snort, turning the man's attention to him.

"I'm sorry monsieur, but what is it that you want from us?" he asked in a stern tone, not even trying to sound nice. "Since you seem to know who we are, you must be someone from the British Parliament, am I correct?"

France had barely received an uncertain nod from the other before he continued to speak in a stern tone.

"So my question is this, Sir, When will you take us to Anglaterre?"

Three pair of eyes stared down on the smaller man who seemed to cringe on his feet, his eyes wide in fear.

The man opened his mouth, his words having trouble to escape from his throat.

"Mr-Mr. England just woke up, so I do not think that it is a good idea for you to…" he began to explained in a shaking voice.

This made the eyes of the three blond nations go wide in shock.

"Anglaterre is awake!?" a startled France cried out, louder than he had intended from the beginning. "Why did not you tell us sooner then?!" he declared in an angry voice, as he pushed passed the stuttering man, followed with hurried steps by the Northern brothers.

They were long gone in the labyrinth of corridors and hallways by the time the man had anytime to protest.

* * *

They walked along the institute's long corridors before France stopped in his track, his eyes narrowing at first, until he suddenly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Canada, utterly confused, stepped forward.

"France what are you doing?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice at the question. He got his answer a few seconds later, when France opened his eyes again and started to walk down the hallway, turning right.

"I know where he is." He declared flatly, as his eyes and mind where focused on the task ahead.

That answer only made the Canadian even more baffled.

"How do you know where he is? We never got to know when we got here?" he then asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

At that, France gave a small chuckle and turned his eyes towards him.

**"I can feel him."** he said, as they continued to walk down the hallways, turning and going through a flight of stairs. "Just like all nations can feel when another nation is near." He explained further as they got into an elevator.

As France pushed a button and the door to the elevator closed behind them, Canada was just about to open his mouth to ask another question when he got interrupted by his silent brother.

"How can you feel him?" America cried out, his voice linked with panic. "I can't feel a thing!" he declared, panic evident in his eyes. France met the frantic eyes of the younger man and gave him a small smile.

"The reason only I can feel him is probably because I have known him the longest." He said, as his eyes turned to stare into the thin air. "After fighting for so many years, we know each others presence by heart." he admitted sadly, as the thought was not a very pleasant one at this time.

America watched France expression, and he could see a spark of something he had never seen before. Remorse.

He then felt silly for flaring up like that over something so trivial, so instead of speaking he stayed quiet, his eyes downcast.

The sound of the elevator woke them all up from their permanent daze as the three stepped out to the small and carpeted hallway.

They all noticed that this floor was very different from the other ones they had walked through. Instead of looking like the typical hospital, this floor looked more similar to a castle. Aside from the fact that the floor was carpeted the walls were covered in expensive wallpapers, and from the ceiling several golden chandeliers were hanging.

As they walked slowly down the new strange place, the brothers as before following the older nations lead, they took noticed of a figure exiting from a door a few meters ahead.

America's eyes widened at that, and he dashed forward to catch the man's attention.

He knew that man. **It was Cameron.**

* * *

"Mr. Cameron!" he yelled out, catching his attention as he was just about to turn the opposite way.

The prime minister looked shocked to say the least when he saw the three blondes running towards him. Along with that, America noticed that he looked very tired and worn out. It did not look like he had gotten any sleep for a while, as dark bangs were clearly evident under his eyes.

"Mr. America." he said in a serious voice, as he eyed the blonde male before him. He then turned to face France and Canada, and gave them a nod in recognition, before turning his attention back to the American. "I reckon you are all here to see Mr. England?" he said, as a matter of fact. He gave a sigh as he turned to the nations.

"I am afraid to say that our motherland is currently asleep." He paused to take a glance at his wristwatch before he continued. "I was just checking on his condition, but since he was asleep by the time I got here…" he proclaimed in a thoughtful manner as his gaze dropped. "I am afraid that I have other important things to do, so I have to take my leave." he said as he bowed his head. "I will assume that you will take care of him in my absence, gentlemen." he said as he gave a small, forced smile before he walk away in long strides towards the exit.

America had barley registered what Cameron had said before he watched him walk away. He was just about to follow him when a hand went down on his shoulder. He looked up to meet his brother's kind purple eyes.

"Are you ready?"

The question came from France, who stood right before the door the prime minister only minutes ago had walked out from. America tore his eyes from his brother and looked at France.

"Yes." He answered.

After hearing his answer France opened the door and the three of them went inside.

* * *

Light struck them almost immediately as they entered the room, and first all they could see was white.

After a few seconds had passed the trio began to make out different shapes in the room, and it was by then they noticed the large bed in the corner of the room, and the person who lay there.

Canada felt his breath hitch in his throat at the sight, and he turned to watch his brother's reaction. He wished he hadn't.

His brother had manage fairly well to handle his emotions all through their trip from Greece, but now, when he was facing his worst nightmare right before him, he couldn't hold it in any longer.

His eyes were wide, and crystal clear tears were flowing uncontrollably down his cheeks, him doing nothing to stop them. He walked ahead of them towards the bed, the other two nations consciously staying a few steps ahead. They knew he needed the space, for the sigh was a lot to take in.

In the queen size bed, covered in white sheets, lay England, in what seemed to be a deep slumber. He would have looked peaceful or serene with the light from the windows reflecting the golden highlight in his yellow hair, or how they made his fair skin even more like a doll's, if it wasn't for the many bandages that covered most of the visible parts of the nation.

His pale face was even paler than normal, and dark purple circles very clearly visible under his closed eyelids.

They noticed when they got closer to the bed that the sleeping nation's breathing was somewhat ragged, as it came in strange high paced hums, which made him sound restless.

The American nation couldn't take his eyes of the bandaged man lying before him, and when he finally reached the bed, he slumped down on his knees right beside it with a soundless thud.

The rest of the group quietly sat down on two nearby chairs, while America rested his cheek on the soft pearl sheets as he glanced with tears in his eyes on the British nation. Slowly, as if not to wake him, he took the nations hand that lay beside him to his face and gently squeezed it in his own. Tears were still present and falling down his cheeks, but as he laid there, holding England's hand close to him, he felt himself slowly relax. The steady heartbeat of said nation made his own heart, who had been in a frantic frenzy, slow down as he could feel and smell all the familiar smells that belonged to England. The calming and soothing fragrances of tea, roses and rain made him drowsy, and before he knew it, he too was long lost in a deep, but peaceful slumber.

France and Canada could only watch as the super power slowly, but surely, fell prisoner to fatigue and exhaustion. Canada sighed and shook his head, but a small smile were still playing on his lips. His brother was where he should be.

Canada began to wonder if maybe, they were disturbing some kind of intimacy, but before he could let his thoughts travel farther, he heard the other nation shift in his seat and chuckle somewhat fondly.

"Matthieu, It is sad don't you agree?" he said in a sad tone. "A tragedy had to occur for them to get this far…" he said, his blue eyes closing as he smiled. Canada watched his former mentor, and after taking in what he had said, he asked him in a soft voice.

"So you have noticed it too Francis?" he said as his eyes were focused on the sleeping face of his brother, whose body rose as his breathing continued in a regular pace. France hummed as he stroked a hair from the injured nations face and tucked it safety behind his ear, before he sat up straight again only to give out a light laugh.

"Really Mon Cher, I don't think no one could have missed their attraction to each other, or their special bond." he stated, before he took out his phone from his pocket, opening it up only to aim it at the two sleeping men.

"What are you doing?" Canada asked in a hushed and panicked voice, his eyes going back and forth between the bed and France.

France only smiled when he pressed a button and a small flash went off. After he watched the screen for a second, he took his seat and replied in a swift motion.

"This is a rare opportunity, and I would be sad of it wasn't remembered." he stated as he started to write a text message, his eyes shining with mischief.

"And what are you up to now Francis?" he asked wearily, he being used to his former mentors ideas of playing tricks and joking around with the other nations.

France only looked up after he had pressed send, and he wore an expression of total innocence.

"Matthieu, I am not up to anything I promise you." he proclaimed. "I was only sending this picture to Japan to tell them that we are here, and that we are somewhat fine." he said.

"Well, As of now at least." he added, his voice more in a serious tone. Both of their eyes wandered then again as on cue to the two sleeping nations beside them.

"Since Anglaterre is asleep, we don't now the severity of his injuries and how much damaged the attacks have affected him." he said sharply. "It is only after he wakes up that we can determinate the damage."

Canada nodded slowly in response, he too knowing very well that even though he may look fine now, looks could be deceiving.

His eyes the fell on the large clock that hung on the wall by the opposite wall, and it was only then that he realized how long they had been here and how late it had become. France had followed his gaze, and he too had come to the same conclusion.

"It's getting late." the older nation said as he stood up from his chair. "I will call and arrange a hotel for us to stay." he stated before he walked out of the room, phone at his ear, already busy finding a hotel in London at this hour.

Canada turned to his brother, with a task he wished he didn't have to do. For waking up his brother now, when he looked so peaceful felt like a crime, but he knew it had to be done. He knew that if he instead had chosen to carry him while he was asleep, he would get scowled for that later one.

So , reluctantly, Canada started to shook his brothers shoulder, hoping that he would wake up. The only response he got was a small growl in disapproval as America only buried his head even farther down the sheets. Canada sighed as he shook him more roughly.

"America." he called softly. "America we have to go." he said as his brother began to stir, his eyes slowly opening.

Americas sight was blurry, but he then noticed his brother beside him. It only took him a few glances around to understand what had happened.

"Oh yeesh, sorry Matt." he said as he gave a large yawn. "How long was I out?" he asked as his eyes went to the still sleeping Englishman. "Did he woke up?" he asked hopefully, but when met his brothers eye he knew that wasn't the case.

"I'm afraid not Al, he seems to be in need of a lot of sleep and rest." he added as he continued. "Francis is currently fixing a place for us to stay at tonight." he said. "I know you don't want to leave him, but we all need to sleep and we will all be back here early tomorrow." he said, as he watched his brother struggle to leave the sleeping man's small form.

America, having a hard time letting go of the hand he was still holding tightly, reluctantly let it go slowly as he stood up. While standing, he stretched, his back sore from sleeping in such a position.

"I guess you are right bro." he said, as he gave a last glance at the bed before the two brothers walked out of the room towards the door.

"I will be back soon, don't you worry England." America said, before he stepped out of the room after Canada.

"After all…** I am your hero**." he whispered before he closed the door with a silent thud.


	7. Chapter 7 Humpty Dumpty Part 1

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

******Note: I'M REALLY SORRY FOR THE DELAY! **

******More notes at the end of the chapter!**

******Enjoy! (somehow...)**

* * *

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again..."

* * *

******Chapter 7. Humpty Dumpty -In pieces- PART 1**

_He could hear it all very clearly. The footsteps on the rug, going back and forth around the room, silent whispers shared between people he still couldn't see. Not yet._

_His head felt heavy, like a rock had been placed upon it._

_After a last final struggle, he manages to open his eyes, admit a bit slowly. When he finally does, he can do nothing but stare as two pairs of eyes are suddenly on him, making him want to shrug away._

_After a few seconds, when his eyes had adjusted to the early morning light, he finally recognizes the two people standing before him._

_His eyes widen, more in surprise rather than shock, and as he opens his mouth to speak, he gets interrupted._

* * *

**"England?"** a voice calls out harshly, drowned in panic and relief. "You're awake!" it then exclaim, the voice in an unusually high-pitch.

Then all the nation can see is a pair of violet eyes staring into his.

England notices the small and gentle smile on the others face, but his brow furrows when he feels something cold land on his hand, that had been grabbed rather forcefully by the other only seconds ago.

He feels something inside him break at the sight before him. The utter sorrow he feels when he knows that he is the one guilty of such an expression on the others face.

He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving the person holding his hand, and he opens his mouth to speak.

But nothing comes out. **Nothing.**

He furrows his brows further, distress clearly showing in his face as he tries again.

**"P..P.."** he manage to stutter out while looking down on the sheets. **"Pl.. ea..s.e"** he says, his voice straining to pronounce each letter. His eyes then stare into slightly confused purple ones, as he continues to struggle with his words.

**"D-Don't cry… C-a..n-a..da."** he says, every letter carefully spelled out between stutters, his hand reaching out to stroke his cheek gently.

After that, the whole room went silent.

* * *

The poor Canadian had been holding in his emotions all this time, all for the sake of his brother. He knew he needed the support, so he had therefor forced his own feelings to rest deep inside him. But now, after seeing his former mentor before him with his eyes finally open after so many days, he broke down.

He could do nothing to stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks, but his eyes could neither look away from the person who's hand he was holding for dear life. He knew he must have look like a complete mess, for the expression the other wore were all too similar to how he had looked on that day, that rainy day when he had broken down at his place. The day after his brother had declared independence on him. It was a night that had plastered itself in his mind like glue, and it was something that he would never forget.

Canada had after that sworn to himself that he never would allow that expression on England's face again. But here he was. And he was the one responsible for it.

He inwardly cursed himself, but before he could think about it any further, he saw that England opened his mouth and was about to say something.

And it was when England opened his mouth and started to speak that the gravity of the situation began to sunk in.

* * *

France, who had been right by Canada's side under the whole ordeal, could do nothing but stare at the nation laying in the bed. Shock was clear in the older nations face, but there was more than that.

**It was fear.**

"A-Anglaterre?" he asked questionly, his voice lacking it's usually humor.

The British nation blinked, as his eyes went from staring at the very silent and very still nation, to meet his deep blue stare.

**"F-F…F-France?"** he asked, his eyes puzzled and his expression showing nothing but confusion.

France could feel the sweat building up on his forehead, and his eyes were filled with fear and sadness.

"Mon petit lapin…" he mumbled out in a soft and sad voice.

"What ever happened to you?"

* * *

Only ten minutes later, the whole room was filled with nurses and doctors, checking on the wounded nations condition. They all seemed rather taken aback by the fact the said nation's incapability to speak, his voice barely audible, and his difficulties to pronounce words and letter probably.

They spent nearly a half hour checking on him and making different tests. England quietly obeyed, which was rare for the usually sharp tongued Brit.

Canada and France were sitting in the far end of the room, far away so that they wouldn't disturb the medics while they were checking on England.

Canada was still in a bit of a chock, as he was clutching his head firmly with both hands, his hand was shaking slightly, and his eyes blurred with worry. France was more focused, his eyes rarely leaving the motionless Briton.

"I'm just glad my brother wasn't't here when he woke up." A weary Canada said, as he looked up from his heavy bangs that covered most of his forehead. "I don't think he could have handled it."

France only nodded in response, his fear just as great as his. The fear was really not a surprise, for never, never, had they witnessed a nation in such a situation, even after a war. The ability to speak was nothing more or less than the representative for the ability to lead a country. Whiteout that, a nation was not complete.

France sighed once again, as he returned to watch the soulless eyes of the United Kingdom before him.

"Amerique." he thought bitterly, as his eyes simmered in worry. "I hope you are prepared for what is to come when you return."

* * *

_So where is our hero, when not in the sight by his awakened capturer of his heart? Nothing more than an ocean away, _

_entangled in fate's evil grasp, or , to put it simply,** in the hands of duty.** _

_For one should not forget, that a nations first interest should always lie with his **country.**_

Therefore was the young nations president not at all so keen on giving him the time off he had requested over the phone from Britain the other day, especially now since it was right in the middle of the elections.

But the president also knew that there was nothing that could stop the nation from flying to England either way, so he quickly dropped the case. He also was not blind, and not heartless. He knew that the "Special relationship" between the two English speaking countries was clearly something more than what was written on paper. Well, at least for the nations that were involved.

It had been hard not to notice the slight change in behavior between the two nations when they were together.

America being even louder, more playful and teasing than normal and England, at least what he had heard from the prime minister of the Great Britain, was even grumpier and more prone to explode in anger than he usually tried to display and act in public.

Not many may have translated this sort of behavior to a heartwarming declaration of love, but for those involved, it was just that.

So it was with these thoughts in mind that the president allowed his country's personification to travel to his allied side the next morning.

* * *

When the doctors had concluded that more complicated tests were in order, and that it would require the nation to be moved to the medical bay, the two French-speaking countries were asked, and not to kindly, to leave the building. At this, the collected Frenchman flared up, his deep blue eyes blazing in anger. It had taken a lot of persuading and a stern glare for the other French speaking nation to follow him out of the building and towards their hotel.

Finally stated on their room, the Canadian wasted no time to direct his suppressed anger towards the other.

"What were you thinking, honestly?" he asked angrily, his eyes set in a deep frown, which was not a normal sight indeed for the Canadian. "You know that arguing with the medics will give you nothing but trouble, and nothing could stop them from not allowing us to see England, if they thought it were in his best interest!"

The Canadian's breathing was hard and he was shaking slightly on his standing spot before the bed the Frenchman was sitting on. Balls fisted by his side, he took in a large intake of air before he slumped in his posture, allowing his bangs to cover his face.

"You know." he then mouthed softly. " I didn't't want to go either." He confessed, as he bit down on his lower lip. He turned his eyes up towards his mentor as he continued to confess his emotions.

"I wanted to be by his side because I saw in his eyes how scared and confused he was by all this." He said, as his body shivered as if he was in a cold. "Even if he doesn't't like to admit it to himself…"he then said as he closed his eyes, his mouth in a thin line as he whispered out the thoughts they both shared. "You know how lonely he gets."

Upon Canada's words, France hunched even further as he rested his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his face. Really now, he didn't't know why his usual calm facade had crumbled so easily, and why he had gotten so upset. But seeing his former charge in the state he now was in had really shaken him up completely. He slowly shook his head, as of to hunt of all the menacing thoughts, he turned his gaze up from his cupped hands.

"I'm sorry Matthieu." he said calmly, a soft strained smile grazing his lips. "I don't know what I was thinking." he said in a honest tone. "It won't happen again, Mon Cher, I promise."

As Canada locked his eyes with the other, they both shared a small smile between them.

Their calm and pleasant moment of serenity was then suddenly interrupted by a loud ring. Both of the nation's jumped slightly at the sound, they both so used to the everlasting silent these past few days. Canada slowly took out his phone, the one guilty of the act, to read what the incoming text was about.

A few seconds later, he closed his phone shut, and with a sigh turned to his French speaking mentor with a weary expression.

"It seems we have no time to consider what to do or say to my brother about all this." He said slowly.

The Frenchman looked at the Canadian with a confused look on his face. "And why is that?" he asked questionly.

Matthew turned his head and locking his eyes with the other he pronounced the words he had hoped he didn't have to say for several days to come.

_**"America just landed in London."**_

* * *

**Note: Again, sorry for taking so long on this chapter! To be fair, I have had problems writing this mainly because I totally lack in the developing of this story! I'm all out of ideas, and frankly, I hadn't planned this one out as much as I would have wanted to , before I started to write it! I would really love for suggestions on how this story should go, in which direction and so on.**

**I haven't even decided yet on who's the bad guy who attacked England yet! (AHHHHHH BAD BAD AUTHOR!)**

**So any suggestions, at all, about anything would be so much appreciated!**

**Thank u in advance, and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter!**


	8. Chapter 8 Humpty Dumpty Part 2

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Note: Yees, I managed to finish this chapter before I'm heading to the airport. I'm actually going to LONDON in a few hours! (*IHHHHHH!*) I'm so excited to finally be able to see England, and hopefully I will get inspired to write more and get more ideas on this fic! ^o^**

**I hope you will enjoy the chapter though, the format could be kinda weird, but if so, I hope you can read either way!**

**Bye bye ~~**

* * *

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again..."

* * *

******Chapter 8. Humpty Dumpty -In pieces- PART 2**

This time, landing at Heathrow was not as hard as it had been two weeks ago, when he, his brother and France had got the news about the attacks on London and immediately rushed on the earliest flight to Britain that following night.

That day his heart had been filled with nothing but sadness and bitter thoughts of resentment. His mind a mess, his feelings turned around and his soul wounded beyond control. The pictures and sights he had witness had etched themselves in his mind, and he had been having countless of nightmares up to date ever since. The most haunting picture of all was the one of his beloved laying in that hospital bed, white as a ghost and covered in bandages all over. He had never seen his former caretaker so weak, so vulnerable and so small. Laying there he looked nothing more like a wounded child, so helpless and innocent.

His eyes had been closed the whole time he had been watching over him by his bed, and he had longed so for him to wake, and to look him in the eyes.  
Because it was nothing he rather do than look into his beautiful, sparkling emerald eyes he loved so much. Just like fresh summer grass on an early morning or the velvet petals of his favorite roses.

Still, by far, his eyes were something you've never find anywhere else, and their beauty surpassing even the most beautiful diamond.  
These thoughts he had was something he always had been having inside him, and every time he caught himself in them, the young nation would blush and deny they ever existed in the first place.

But then his peaceful days of supervising the nation's condition had taken an abrupt stop when a call from Washington urged him to return to the states for an important meeting ASAP, or more or less, as of this minute.

At first, he had refused, saying that his place right now was right here, with England, and that anything else was not of importance.  
But only a few hours later, he was all and all but dragged out of the building by three agents, claiming his presence nonnegotiable in the matter at hand. Only after some faint promises of returning soon, and as much Mc Donald's as he wanted if he followed them allowed them to, (somewhat) board the private helicopter on time.

Canada, who had watched the whole ordeal from beginning to end, had been having a hard time understanding how England had _not_ woken up at the loud American's childish fit of anger. Practically the whole staff at the private hospital had been alarmed and had been watching them throughout them boarding until they later took flight. Canada was more than embarrassed about his brother's behavior, and if he could he had just wanted to vanish into thin air (not so hard for him, but still!). But even so, he had promised his brother before he left to take his place and look after England until he returned.  
Canada really hadn't needed to be told that, because he too had spent most of his free time by the Englishman's side since he got situated in London.  
Still, he had smiled and nodded, leaving a relived America to fly off to handle his country's important business.

* * *

After that, it had taken the wounded nation four days to finally open up his eyes once again, and this time for more than 10 seconds.  
So on the 16:th day since the attack, The _personification_ of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland; a.k.a. England; was finally awake.

* * *

Fresh air hit him immediately when he got out off the plane, and he could fell his spirit lift of the ground. Finally he would be able to meet him again! With his head hold up high and with long determinate strides, he walked passed security out to the great hall to locate a transport into the city.

His sight wandered through the hall, and it was then he spotted a rather odd sight.  
In the mist of legs of travelers and bags on wheels going back and forth, he spotted a big ball of white a few feet ahead of him. He tilted his head questioningly, his brows slightly furrowed in disbelief when the white ball turned around, revealing its real identity. Two pair of black beaded eyes met his blue ones and he froze in shock.

"What…" he thought. "What in god's name does a bear even…" he said to himself before realization hit him. "Wait." he thought. "Isn't that the bear bro always carries around?" he grumbled thoughtfully. He didn't have time thinking about it further when a voice could be heard amidst all the travelers, calling his name.

"Alfred!" a person right in the middle of the mass of people called out, in what was supposed to be a loud voice, but failed to emit such a sound. Even though, he could hear him just fine. After all, he was not human; but a nation.

All his senses were far better than a normal person, and that he shared with his fellow nations. Except one thing he was alone with. That being his super, abnormal strength, that he had been having since his early days as a British colony.

He smiled as he strolled past the big crowd of people towards his awaiting brother. Beside him he could also now spot the other French-speaking nation, who had been on the other side of the hall, searching.

"Matt, really, when I texted you on the plane I didn't mean for you to pick me up or something!" he said, grinning apologizing. "You really didn't have too, bro!" he said, as he watched the polar bear climb its way up on Canada's leg, to finally take its wished position on his shoulder. Canada shook his head slowly as a response, and quickly peered to his right and catching France glance, before he decided to take up the subject at hand, without prolonging it even further.

"America." He called, taking his brothers attention from scratching Kumajirou's head, to look him earnestly in the eye.

"What is it?" he said, his blue eyes wide and filled with hope. Looking into his brothers hopeful eyes made it all so much harder, but he had to say it. For his own sake.

"England." He began, rather shakingly, before he found his confidence again and continued. "England woke up yesterday."

As soon as the information got through to America his eyes widened, and his mouth hang open in shock.

"ENGLAND IS AWAKE!?" he exclaimed loudly, scaring a few passersby in the progress. "Why didn't you tell me sooner!?" he said with trace of anger in his voice, as he stared his brother down. He then abruptly turned on his heels heading off towards the nearest exit.

Before he had managed to take even two steps away towards his goal, his shoulder was grabbed firmly by the older blonde nation, and he got turned around harshly so that he was facing him, merely a few inches away from the others face.

"Now listen to me closely, Amerique." he said firmly, his eyes hard as steel. "Even though Angalterre is awake, he is no longer the same Anglaterre as before." he proclaimed, his eyes still looking firmly into sky-blue American froze at this, his eyes staring into the others with nothing but confusion, mixed with a slight feeling of dread. He opened up his mouth to speak, but closed it almost immediately again. He clearly was at a loss of what to say, his brows furrowed and his eyes showing worry.

"W-What." He manages to get out, his voice hoarse. "What do you mean he's no longer himself?" he said, looking pleadingly first at France, then turning his eyes for a short second towards his brother, only to return to France deep blue stare eyes he stared into then turned sad, and said person deflated slightly in his stance, his glance turned instead to the side, not bearing to look into the others eyes any longer.

"Alfred." A soft voice called out, as the person in question stepped forward, standing by his right side peering with concerned purple eyes at him. America lifted his head up from looking down, to meet his brother. Brows still very much furrowed in confusion, and concern now overpowering his whole being. Still very uncomfortable with his brother in this state, he pulled himself together once more.

"When England woke up the other day…." He began softly, watching his brother's reaction on every word he said, before he decided to continue "…He couldn't speak, his voice barley being able to pronounce a single sentence." He explained, still watching his brothers every reaction. Hearing this, America suddenly seemed to lose track of reality, and it seems like he even stopped breathing for a few seconds. His eyes widened even further and he glances at his brother, trying to see if he really was telling the truth.

He was. That unwavering purple stare could not tell any lies, and he knew it.

He then felt, right there, in the middle of the airport, that all was lost. He knew how important the ability to speak was, and for a nation to not be able to do so… That was hardly a nation.

He shuddered at his thoughts, as dread filled him up once more. He then turned to the other nation, standing beside his brother. He had been observing them in silence during Canada's confession, his face a mask of no emotion. But when he caught sight of the Americans eyes, his face seemed to soften up a bit, and he titled his head a bit to the side.

"What is it?" he asked questioningly, his blue eyes a bit concerned by the Americans silence. America took a large intake of breath before he answered in a stern tone.

"I need to see him. I need to see him now." He said, his voice unwavering and eyes showing a sudden determination. France watched him, rather taken aback, but then smiled softly.  
"Why of course." he said. "We have a car ready right outside the eastern exit. We can go whenever you are ready, Cher."  
America only nodded in response, and turned towards his brother.

"Let's go." he said before he turned around and left the airport, followed by his brother and France not far behind.

* * *

He muscles was _burning_. His breathing ragged. Each and every breath coming out in small fast huffs , while his legs were trembling beyond control. Upon all that, he felt like there was a heavy weight pressing down on him, making his attempt to walk even more of a challenge than it already was.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was being ridiculous. The doctors had clearly said that his mobility where not in full order, as of yet, and wouldn't be for quite a while, and still, he decided to take his chances at walking. Despite the clear order to stay quietly in bed, the British nation was not very keen on doing just that. He didn't like to be pampered and he certainly didn't enjoy being told what to do and what not to. Being taken care of like that made him feel vulnerable and he hated to be so dependent on somebody else. After all, he had been all by himself for most of his long life so far, and he could therefor take care of himself just fine, Thank you very much.

A few seconds later, after taking a large breath, he closed his eyes in concentration as he lifted his foot to take another step forward, holding stiffly onto the window railing so that he wouldn't fall. He manages to walk, even though taking a lot of effort and time, over half of the distance towards his goal; a big jug of water, standing on a small round table a few feet from his bed.

He wanted to curse himself for being so slow, and his body for being so uncooperative. He suddenly felt so miserable, and he could feel tears threatening to escape from his eyes. He closed his eyes once more, shaking his head slowly from side to side as to deny the tears for even being there in the first place. As he opened up his eyes again after a few long seconds, his brows was furrowed deeply in concentration, as he lifted his foot with more vigor this time, taking a big step forward.

Before he had managed to step his foot down on the floor again, he heard fast footsteps outside the corridor, followed soon by a big bang of the door slamming wide open.

* * *

The shock of the sudden loud sound made the Brit snap his head towards the source, only to lose his footing completely. He could feel himself tipping slightly forward, only to tilt back seconds later to fall mercilessly backwards. He closed his eyes firmly shut, preparing himself for the soon very harsh and painful landing.

He could therefore barley react to the somewhat soft landing he felt as he hit the ground with a loud thud, followed by several gasps in fear. He then flinched remarkable when he could hear a loud, slightly painful moan very close to him, and a pair of strong arms seconds later snaking themselves around his torso.

Upon that, he flickered up his eyes in shock, trying desperately to turn and face the person he was now, more or less, on top off. This seemed to be an impossible task, as the muscular arms around him was holding on to him so close, he couldn't move an inch.

But, his efforts seemed to pay off when the arms lessened their grasp on his waist, and he then was able to turn his head up to look his savior in the eyes.  
England was more than a bit surprised to find two large clear blue eyes stare into his, their face only inches apart. His eyes widened at the realization and his head turned down towards the ground in a flash. He felt his face heating up and he started to squirm slightly in his very embarrassing position.

"Ah… Ahhh…" he manages to pronounce in his shock filled state, his eyes darting back and forth, not knowing where to look.

In a quick and swift moment, he could feel himself suddenly being lift up from the ground, only to be cradled gently in the Americans arms. His cheeks got even redder at this, and he was just about to open his mouth to complain when he got shushed by the other.

"Really now, what were you thinking England?" The voice said, annoyance clearly slipping through. The grip around his body then suddenly got a bit tighter, and the Brit felt himself tense up even more.

"You are sick, and should therefore be in bed, understood?" the American said sternly, not willing to show his worries through his manner of speech. With only three long strides, he was standing before the bed, another revealing on how very short the distance really had been.

Arthur felt himself being lowered very softly onto the bed again, his eyes still wide in embarrassment, not able to took the other nation in the eye. He then got, rather clumsily, tucked in, blue eyes never looking up from the pearly sheets while he performed his task. The British man's eyes then glanced towards the two people who were now standing on either side of the bed, looking worriedly at him.

"Petit lapin, are you alright?"

"England, How are you feeling? Are you hurt?"

Questions of concern were flooding him at the same time, and all he manages to do was to nod and shake his head.

_**Yes**, he was fine._

_**No**, he was not hurt._

When hearing that, the other two seemed to relax remarkably, as they both went to grab some chairs to sit on.

The only one who was still hunched by his side was the sunny blonde American.

Still not facing him properly, England felt even more nervous than before. He fisted the sheets in his hands, building up his courage. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy to see his former colony. He had actually been rather sad when he realized that Matthew was present without his brother. He had taken it as a sign that the superpower really didn't care for him, and that at all. He would have been crushed, if it wasn't for all the other things he had to worry about. Like how he was bandaged up all across his body, looking ridiculously like a mummy. His disability to talk and move around was clearly his most severe problem, but all the other little things made him even more ticked off by his whole situation.  
But here he was, right by his side. He gulped, his throat feeling dry.

"A..A-America?" he stammered out, his voice soft.

* * *

He felt himself snap his head up at the sound of his name. His blue eyes, that had been avoiding facing the small man before him, were now staring into slightly shaken green ones. America felt his heart leap in his chest by the sight before him, and he couldn't help but smile fondly at the man, whose face showed a faint innocent that was very rare to witness.

He noticed that the others cheek turned a lovely pink color, which made the sight even more endearing.

"I'm glad you're finally awake, so that I can see your eyes again." He said, his smile widening remarkably. England's eyes widened at that, his cheeks now a deep shade of scarlet.

"W..W-Wha..at?" he stuttered out, his voice breaking with every letter.

A chuckle interrupted the two unknowing lovebirds. Both going white in horror when they realized they had forgotten that they were, indeed not alone in the room.

"Finally back from your own world, Ma cherie?" the Frenchman manages to get out through his forced contained laughter. On the other side of the bed, Canada was chuckling behind his gave an angry look towards the Frenchman, a blush spreading on his face.

"Not funny, Francis." He mumbles out, looking down, but sneaking a small peek at the silent Briton. The Brit was hunched in the bed, his face buried in his hands. That made him react, as he leant closer.

"England, are you alright? What's the matter? Are you in pain?" he asked worriedly, his eyes showing slight panic.  
England looked up from his hands, emerald eyes shimmering and mouth slightly ajar. America was there before him, closer than before and in his comfort zone, leaning half and half on him.

His large body pressing down on him, the weight both uncomfortable and strangely relaxing, on his much leaner body.

"I-I'm f..ine, A..A-l." he said, uncomfortably. His gaze shifted to the side. "Yo-u a-are t..too c-close, g..g-git." he then stammered out, blushing.  
America got the picture quickly and got back on his seat by the bed, coughing awkwardly.

Before the French duo could tease them any further, A knock on the door made then tense up.

"Come in…" An attentive France said slowly.

On granting the permission, the door knob turned and the door opened, revealing a person they least expected to be there at that moment...

* * *

Note: Yeah, Who could that be, hm? ;3 Please take a guess~~


	9. OUR Special Relationship Part 1

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Note: ****New Chapter!~~ Haha, really funny though, no one guessed right on who the one at the door was~~ Hihi, feel I've suceeded in surprising you all! (or, I will succeed, since you probably haven't began reading just yet :P)**

**I hope this chapter isn't too confusing! And I feel like I may be pulling your legs with my choice of Chapter name... _(We'll see...)_**

**Anyway, enjoy!~~**

* * *

_'The United States and the United Kingdom are bound together by inseparable ties of ancient history and present friendship ... There's been something very special about the friendships between the leaders of our two countries and our countries as a whole.'_

* * *

**Chapter 9. When two become one? – OUR Special relationship- **

**PART. 1**

Seeing the person standing before them made the two English speaking country's face pale, and their breath stuck momentarily in their throats. The one taking the bigger damage was no other than our American hero. With wide eyes, he took in the person standing by the doors whole form, before he, in a flash, ducked closer towards the Brit, digging is nails into the sheets.

"You can't make me go, I told you I would _not_ leave his side! _ !_" he accusingly all but shouted at the person in the doorway, as he buried his head in the Britons lap. _"I won't go, I won't go, I won't go…!"_ he chanted as a mantra, his voice muffled by the sheets.

A heavy sigh escaped the newly arrived person lips, as he took a step to the side to reveal another person that had stood behind him.

"Really now, Mr. America, There is no need for that kind of talk." The** President of the United States said**, as he sighed again. "You see what I get to deal with all day, Mr. Cameron? It is in times like this that I envy how calm and collected Mr. Kirkland is." He said, shaking his head in the process. The prime minister of England stepped into the room, following his close college towards were all the nations were sitting.

"Then I suppose you haven't seen England drunk then, Mr. Obama." The other replied, his tone serious despite the subject, and with his brows furrowed, he walked to the end of the bed, the President following him and standing by his right side.

"Good afternoon." The man named Cameron greeted the nations beside him, giving a small courtesy bow, before his eyes turned to the bed, and the one nation laying there.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Kirkland?" he asked, his tone business like, but his eyes really betrayed his true emotions. Fear. Fear and worry for their country's safety and wellbeing.

The personification of England gulped, as he had trouble looking the other in the eye. Somehow he felt ashamed.

Ashamed of the fact that he had been, so easily, reduced to such a mess from a still unknown force. It had really hit a strong punch on his ego and his pride. Him being a superpower and an empire in the past didn't really help in this case.

But the small Island nation reluctantly chose to turn and face his boss straight one, his green eyes striking a stark contrast with the others pale blue ones.

"I-I'm Fi-" Was the British nation just about to answer , before he got interrupted by several pairs of cold stares directed at him. He turned to glance at his visitors in the corners of his eyes, and then his eyes fell to the most prominent source of the icing stare. Before him he watched the usually cheerful blue eyes of the American turn from a baby blue color to a much darker, fearful shade of deep blue.

England shrugged a bit at this, him feeling very uncomfortable with the stares, and especially those fearful eyes of his former charge.

He sighed then, turning up and once again lay his eyes on his boss.

"Since I'm n-not allowed to say I'm f-fine, I g-guess I have to s-say that I'm g-good." He said, stuttering, as he watched the other nations still hard eyes on him, not believing any word he had said. _"F-For now, at least."_ He added shortly, giving a faint glare at the two French speaking nations that watched him with serious faces and mouths closed into thin lines.

David Cameron, who had, along with the President of the United States, watched this whole silent conversation among the four nations, could only shake his head as his eyes were once again on his nation.

"That is god to hear, since you had been unconscious and unresponsive for so long." He said, as he trailed off and turned towards the president. "It is quite the good time, actually, that you woke up when you did since we have been discussing further on what we should do after this, well, _incident…."_ He voiced out, his voice suddenly sounding slightly unsure.

This caught the attention of all the nations, whose eyes now were glued positively on the two humans present in the room. This made the UK Prime minister even more nervous, and he glanced at the other that stood beside him for support on this matter.

After sharing a look, the President of the United States cleared his throat, before he turned to the awaiting immortals.

"You all know that after this kind of Incident, in any country all over the world, we have a responsibility to alert the citizens and the rest of the human race about our stand on this matter, and how we are going to work to find a solution for it." He began, before he took a break to see if the others were following through.

"In this particular case, _however…"_ he began, as his voice trailed off and he shared a look with the other, before he gave a small nod and turned to the others again. "… The Prime minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, along with the Conservative Party of Her Majesty's Government has decided, together with the President of the United States and its Government, that this should not be viewed as a threat against _one single nation_."

He locked eyes with the two on the bed, that eyed him with wide eyes.

_"This is a threat as much against the British, as it is to the people of America."_ He said, ending his message, but with his dark eyes still eyeing the two nations in question.

* * *

After the President had finished talking, silence went through the room, as the nations tried to understand the information they'd been delivered, and to really fully grasping the meaning behind it.

France was like the others, deep in thought, but he couldn't stop himself from sneaking a glance at the two who sat by the bed. They were both like frozen in place, only their eyes betrayed that they were truly thinking and not each sharing a mutual black out.

It was only after a span of many seconds that the both English speaking individuals seemed to have snapped out of their common daze. As the other looked up, the other looked down and their eyes met, sky blue and forest green. Doubt was one emotion that flowed through them. Doubt, but also confusion and _something else_. Something neither of the two could recognize or put a name on. But the feeling was strong, and they knew it was mutual as far as they could read.

They had not even the faintest clue how long they had been staring each other in the eyes, but it was only when they heard someone cough rather loudly, that their connection, in a flash, broke like a shattering glass, making them turn red at the realization.

Utterly embarrassed, the two countries turned away from one another, only to make their respective Boss's to shake their heads in minor frustration.

_"Oh, here it goes again…"_ the Prime minister mumbled to no one in particular, as he straightened his posture before he cleared his throat, loudly this time, to get the others attention.

Two pairs of purple and blue turned their head at the man, giving him their full attention, as the other two only seemed slightly attentive to what the other was about to say.

With stern eyes, the Prime minister of the UK eyed his nation before he spoke up.

"So, with that being said." He started, as his eyes turned colder.

_"England."_ He pronounced with a stern and serious tone, making the nation in question snap his head fully in his direction.

"We came here to deliver this information of our decision, and my question is this: What are your thoughts on this?" he asked, his eyes turning a bit warmer, but his face showed how seriously he took this, and how much his answer really weighed in this matter.

"I'm also, _of course_, interested in your thoughts as well, Mr. America." Cameron added, as he turned his eyes to the younger nation.

England swallowed once more; as the information the President had told him were swimming in his head, making him feel uneasy.

* * *

_"Did… Did they really suggest what he thought they had?"_ he thought, as his brows furrowed in confusion. _"They'd…. They would really…"_ he thought, but his thoughts got interrupted as he felt a hand over his. He blinked in confusion, before he locked eyes with the on responsible for the deed. He knew it could be no one else's hand that held his, but just to make sure he turned to see the American regard him with worry, but as their eyes met, a warm smile spread on his lips, making his head dizzy at the sight.

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but words refused to form. He shook his head, and manages to stutter out his concern.

"D..Do you r-really under... understand what this would…would _mean_, Al-Alfred?" The island nation said, his voice even more shaky.

With eyes still glued on each other, the younger of them only smiled wider as he gave a small nod.

"I do." He answered, before he continued. "And I think what they are suggesting is relevant for both of us." He said seriously, before he turned to the two men by the end of the bed. "I have nothing to argue or disagree on this matter." He said, as he turned to the frozen nation again. "In fact, I would have it_ no other way."_ He said slowly, as he squeezed the others hand affectionately.

The Brit's face turned pink at that, and as he was about to retort, his words seemed to stumble on one another.

"I-I… W-w..why… Y-you… re..really.. w-w…_what_…?" he stammered out, his brows furrowed in concern and his eyes showed a broken expression of strong disbelief.

The American eyes him with a rare, serious expression he, or the world for that matter, rarely got to see. The expression worried England even further, but even so, he never saw what happened next coming. At all.

But as soon as he caught the other nation moving to a standing position, he felt a pair of lips on his forehead. Even though it was very brief, the touch seemed to linger on long after the lips disappeared, and with that, so did said nation.

"I have some things to discuss with you Mr. President, so if you don't mind we going somewhere to talk?" the young American said, as he walked up to his boss, his eyes serious.

Mr. Obama, was so to speak, rather stunned. Like all the other in the room who had been witnessing the scene just moments ago. But as he got his sense back, he only nodded in response.

"Yes… Of course Alfred." He said, as he followed behind the nation as they both, without a word exited the room. The President of the United States only manages to meet the Prime ministers eye before he vanished, but he could clearly see that he too, was very surprised about the youngling's action.

* * *

As soon as the door closed shut with a small thud, Mr. Cameron's eye wandered to his nation, that looked as if he was about to faint any second now. His pale complexion even paler than normal, if you looked past the deep red blush that seemed to grow by the second, and his emerald eyes wide in shock.

France and Canada hadn't been as shocked as the others, because they both had sort of seen it coming, any moment now. Sooner or later hadn't mattered, but they really cursed him for confessing his feelings like this. From nowhere, and so vague. So very vague! They knew England wasn't stupid, but he could be dense._ Really dense_. Dense and _clueless_, and this was just that kind of situation they wanted to avoid for _so many years!_

You see, our little Island wouldn't believe anything; _if not been told straight out_. He never dared to assume anything anymore. His history had told him many times ever since that it wasn't safe to assume anything. Being hurt countless times ever since, you couldn't blame him for being so careful.

_"Ah… Mon dieu."_ A frustrated Frenchman sighed. _"This could be troublesome…"_

Whilst France had a mental argument with himself, Canada eyed England worriedly with big concerned violet eyes.

"Arthur." He mouthed softly. "Arthur,_ Are you alright?"_ he asked, as he bent forward, taking the Brit's other hand, the hand that hadn't been claimed by his brother minutes before.

As soon as his skin touched the others, the other jumped in shock, as his eyes darted to meet his. His eyes bewildered, and an expression similar to panic on his face.

This immediately made emergency bells ring in the Canadians head, as he quickly got on his feet and stepped closer to sitting nation.

"England, _Please."_ He pleaded, as he grabbed the other's shoulders. "Please, try to calm down."

When said nation didn't seem to respond, the other nation joined the Canadian, by the other side of the bed.

"Anglaterre, Listen to me now." France began, as he took the other's chin to turn his face towards him. With wide panic-stricken green eyes on his, he took a breath and then focused his eyes entirely on the other.

"You are probably very confused now, and I can understand that, but ,_please,_ Mon Cher." He said, his voice turning serious. "What happened just now, is _exactly_ what it seemed to be, and _nothing else_. Okay?" he said, his deep blue eyes never leaving the two pools of green.

* * *

Green eyes glued to blue seemed to understand what the other was saying, but after the French nation had finished speaking, green showed doubt. And not only that, a few seconds later anger began to shine through, making emerald shine like a burning ruby.

England then tore his eyes fiercely away from his friend, only to glare at him accursedly.

_"Don't."_ he began, his voice low and fearsome. "Don't you _dare_ feed me these… _These lies!"_ he all and all but screamed at the other, as he buried his fists in the sheets. "I won't let you, or _him_ for that matter, to toy with emotions to then step on them,_ just like before!"_ he yelled, startling everyone present in the room. "Don't… D-don't you think that I've had _enough_ already?" he manages to convey, his voice slightly sore from the yelling, and his stutter began to show again. "Don't you think I've have been _hurt_ enough?" he said, as he then turned to meet the other in the eye, his lips going up to displaying a somewhat cruel smirk.

_"Why of course not."_ He then began softly. "Because, after all, I _deserved_ this, didn't I?" he said, his voice mocking, as he gave a low chuckle.

France watched the other, horror clearly showing on his face, and just as he was about to argue the others statement, he got interrupted by a harsh voice.

_"But now."_ He said, poisonous green eyes gleaming in rage. "You feel the need to wound me not with _Guns or Swords_, but with _Words and Gestures_." He said, his lips curling up in a growl, revealing his teeth. "Not only is it satisfying for me to be physically hurt, You also feel the need to _damage my mind_ even further…" he said, as his grip on the sheets intensified, and he began to shake in rage.

France, utterly lost upon the sudden turn of advents, tried to get the other to listen by grabbing his shoulder. But just as he bent forward to grab the other, his arm got hit away with a force he did not expect from a nation that wounded.

"D-don't… Don't_ t-ouch me_!" the British nation yelled as best as he could, with his words muddled up once again. He cursed under his breath before he opened his mouth again.

"G-Get… Get out…" he mumbled slowly, as his shoulders hunched. When he couldn't register a movement after his statement, his head flew up and he glared at the two people now standing by the end of his bed, both with similar facial expressions on.

_"GET OUT!"_ he yelled, his voice cracking as he could feel tears building up in eyes.

The two men bolted at that, and they hurriedly decided to leave, just as they had been asked to do. Not only were the other very scary when he got angry, he was not very easy to get through either. And now, as his magic had begun to flow like a shadow above his head ever since he first had raised his voice, it could get gruesome.

France watched with sad eyes at the hunched and now shivering nation in the bed. His small frame looking even smaller, and the man even more fragile than before. He gave a sad sigh, before he exited the room, together with the very much shaken prime minister.

* * *

As soon as the door shut closed, the nation confined in bed dropped it all as he began to sob freely as he hunched over the now tear-stained sheets. He held nothing in as he let it flow, his form shaking in the now very cold room, as his magic still swished over his head, but not as violent as before. It slowly calmed down, just as its summoner cried out his sorrow in his loneliness.

Well, that what he _thought,_ at least. He seemed to have forgotten _(like so many times.)_ the young man still present in the room, watching the other pour out his heart before him, his _purple eyes_ shining in the evening sun….

* * *

**Note: _Yeah..._ *runs away and hides***

**(R&R , Please~~ )**


	10. OUR Special Relationship Part 2

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Note: I am not very sure about this chapter, and I think it is kind of boring, but it had to be done. **

**More funnier things await in the next one~~**

**Enjoy!~~**

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**Chapter 9. When two become one? – OUR Special relationship- **

**PART. 2**

He watched, like he had done before, his cherished mentor break down in tears.

He saw it flow, uncontrollably, just like last time that rainy day. He saw those fat tears roll down puffy red cheeks, saw them travel further down to land silently on the bed, their sound muffled by the heavy fabric.

He did not know if he knew he was there,_ sat there_, while the other he let himself show his most vulnerable state, his most vulnerable side that he never allowed anyone to see.

His fragile mind, concealed by harsh words, frowns and pointless bickering. Now showing and revealing everything, every emotion and every dark secret he had always hidden so well.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, and Canada would probably never know if it would be the last. He had thought the last time he saw a similar scene would have been the last, the final time he would see his mentor like this.

But no.

Here he was again, and for the same reason.

_**His brother.**_

* * *

Canada watched with sad eyes as the man in the bed's sobs began to slow down, and how his posture became even more hunched as he bent down in exhaustion. Silent tears still rolled down pale cheeks, but the sound of sobbing were now replaced by harsh and heavy breathing.

The strained intake of breath spoke tons, and you could clearly hear how so very tired the other was.

It was only after a few minutes that the nation's breathing began to still, and it was only then that the man turned to catch the others worried gaze with his own.

"C-C…Canad-a…" the other voice out, his voice damaged and raspy like a dry leaf.

"Canada, _I-I'm sorry…"_ he said, as his eyes traveled down to stare down on his still fisted hands. The downcast nation gulped, as he felt his throat being uncomfortable dry, making every word he spoke hurt.

"Again… A-Again I show you this ugly… this ugly side of m-mine…" he stuttered out, as more tears began to flow down his cheeks as he tried to smile at the other.

Matthew watched the others strained smile with a slight frown, his brows knitted in concern, as he put his hand over the others.

"England, It is alright." He said softly, as he gave him a gentle smile. He could feel the others piercing gaze on him, but the mellow nation was content with watching the others hand under his on the bed. It wasn't before he could feel the other shift and before he knew it, the smaller and much colder hand was now on top of his, instead of the opposite. He looked up and met the other, and he was rewarded with a small smile, and a genuine one this time.

"Thank you." The island nation said, almost in a whisper, as his eyes began to wander to set its sight on the door, his gaze muddled.

Sensing the others thoughts, the Canadian shifted awkwardly in his chair, before he chose to speak.

"You know, he meant it." He said. _"Honestly."_ he added, his voice gentle but firm as he watched the other. _"Every word."_

He said slowly, as he pulled his hand away from the other, and put it on his lap.

On the gesture and the words, the other slowly turned to face him, eyes still distant.

A shallow strangled breath escaped the others lips, as his figure hunched down again once more.

_"Is that so…"_ England murmured, as he trailed his fingers down the ups and downs of the blanket in his lap.

On the very much blank answer, Canada knew he wasn't getting through to the other.

As much as he wanted to shake some sense into the other, it wasn't his way of doing things, and it would do more damage than good anyway, surely.

_"I mean."_ he thought._ "Just look what happened to Francis…"_ he hummed to himself, as he watched the other attentively, drawing invisible circles, over and over again with his fingers.

* * *

After sitting in silence for minutes, the Canadian too began to slump in his seat, feeling defeated.

"You don't believe me, do you England?" he said, his voice flat and laced with traces of bitterness. He chuckled then, a force one, which sounded much darker than what it was meant to be._ "But really England."_ He said, now gaining the others attention, as he looked into confused green eyes. "How can you be so _dense_." He said, his posture now straight and his voice a mask of steel and seriousness.

The former superpower began to feel uncomfortable under the piercing purple gaze of his former colony, and that face of indifference the other had on made the tense moment even more so.

"Why won't you see it for what it is Arthur…" the Canadian said, a bit gentler this time, but he was still masking quite fearful expression of indifference. "See it for what it _really_ is!" he said, his voice going up in volume. "For what it is, instead of something unreachable, like _you_ think it is…" he said, his brow furrowed once more, and a sad expression masked his face soon after.

The Canadian's confession echoed in England's mind for several minutes, or so it seemed as the silence was again very prominent in the small room.

A sigh then broke the silence, and the bedridden nation tensed up, as a reflex on the sound.

_"You know…"_ A much softer voice began, as he watched the others tense up before him. "He watched over you, every day since we all got here."

This made the somewhat uncomfortable silence ven more so, and England's eyes widen when he registered what the other had said. He turned his face slowly to meet the other, and he was just about to protest when he got shushed before he even had the chance to fully open his mouth to voice them.

"He was forced to leave by his boss." He said as a matter of fact. "He made quite a fuss about it honestly, and caught a big stir when they went here to get him." He smiled then, fondly, as he met green again. _"He only went when they promised for him to return when he had cleared up what he had to do."_

Watching the other take in what he had said, he added in a lower voice.

_"He never wanted to leave you, England."_

* * *

As Canada allowed the other his time to get the information in, he could only watch the others face, that flashed in different emotions. All from the never ending doubt, to confusion and to shock. But then his face all went blank, which made the other frown in confusion.

Before he had any time to react or question the other, the smaller male suddenly covered his hand over his mouth, the action followed by a loud gasp.

Alarmed he stood up abruptly, nearly tipping his chair in his haste to get to the others side.

But his reaction of alarm had all been in vain, because when he got closer, he noticed how the smaller man's cheeks were a dark red, and his eyes wide and glazed over, making them shine even more. Shocked, he stood there, frozen in place, but soon a smile spread on his face getting bigger and bigger as the realization struck him.

_"It finally got through."_

* * *

The thud of a door closing followed by a heavy sigh was all that could be heard as America bid Good-bye to his Boss, that was to return to the States later that night.

Just as he began his trip back to the hospital room, he witnessed an odd sight ahead. A few meters before him in the long corridors that seemed to never end, was the personification of France, walking and half supporting a very shocked British Prime minister. He quirked his head to the side, questioning, as he approached them.

"Hey France." He began as he watched them dumbfounded. "What are you doing out here? And what is the matter with.. Uhh… Mr. Cameron here?" he asked, as he pointed at the older man on his right side, confusion written all over his face. He had never seen the usually collected Englishman so shattered, and so out of character.

"Ah, _Amerique."_ A strained France said, as he tried to push an away some strands of his bangs that covered his vision with his only available hand. "You finally finished your little chat, non?" he asked, as he tried a small smile to the American.

America made a face at that, as he sensed something was not like it should be. Letting his eyes travel between the two men, he stopped as he glanced as the Frenchman with a slightly worried expression.

"Is everything alright?" he asked quietly. "And where is Matt?" he then asked, as he looked around. Suddenly something flashed before his eyes and his eyes widened. "Did something happen with England? _Did he get worse?_ Why did you leave his side, he could be in trouble!" he chanted hurriedly, as the panic in his voice seemed to grow by the second. Just as the young adult was about to pounce of the corridor towards his intended, he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder, avoiding him from moving from his current place.

The Frenchman eyes the other with a bit of humor in his eyes, but when he saw the very much stern stare from the other, he only shook his head fondly in response to his question.

"Anglaterre is just fine, and Canada is currently by his side." He said softly. "Well," he added, as his gaze wandered to the side and to the very silent prime minister. "As fine as he could be, _on this circumstances_, and when it comes to his _physical health…"_ he said, trailing of at the last word. _ "His mental state, however…"_ he thought bitterly, as he sighed loudly, making the American frown at his word.

"I… I don't understand." He stated. "You say he's fine, but everything else about you says he's not. So, what is it, really?" he asked, his eyes glowing darkly behind his whirled frames.

France slumped then at the others words, and as he eyed the young nation before him, he smiled weakly.

"Amerique, Your little Anglaterre kicked us out." He stated firmly, as he tried to get the wobbling man by his side to stand by himself. "He seemed to have taken your words, _back then_, in not the way you would have wanted him to do." He added, his smile turning bitter once again.

"_Really_, Alfred." He said._ "What were you thinking?"_

The American tensed up then, the question burning like fire on his skin.

"W…What do you mean with_ 'What I was thinking…_' " he said, as he looked at the other with a deflated expression. "I.. I finally told him my feelings!" he said, a bit more confidence shining thought his voice, as he fisted his hand. "I.. I know it probably wasn't so _romantic_ and... and kind off _out of the blue_ but… but, I told him! I told him and that is what counts_ and-"_ he said, but got interrupted before he could say anything more.

"Alfred, _My boy_, You didn't tell him." A voice said, laced with sadness.

America flinched then, shocked as by electricity by the Frenchman's words.

Just as he was about to question him, France started to speak.

"You didn't tell him, not _directly."_ He said, his eyes locked to the other.

"We others knew very well what you meant by your words, but _he…"_ he said, and he couldn't hold in a strained sigh from escaping his lips again.

"He… _as per usual_, misunderstood." He said, blue eyes shining with something akin to regret.

"He semmed to have taken it as some cruel joke… some joke while he was weak and more vulnerable for it." He said softly, eyes still on the other nation.

America stood still then, frozen in place. He couldn't think or speak, as dread started to fill his whole being. "No… No It cannot be he… he didn't get it... he… _he thought I..I-…"_ he thought, as his mind whirled with all kinds of emotions, creating a never-ending chaos in his head.

"When I tried to explain to him that he was wrong, he got so angry his magic started to go amok… And then he all but ordered us to leave him alone." The Frenchman said, as he finished explain the situation to the other nation.

As France eyed the world's current superpower warily, he couldn't help but to feel pity for the boy. Pity on the fact that he had failed at his attempt on showing his feeling for the one he had love since his most earliest days up til' now, and to get seemingly nothing for the strained effort.

He noticed then that the American seemed to be lost in his thoughts, and in deep agony.

He took the other shoulder again and shook his slightly.

"Hey, Alfred." He said, as he smiled. "No need to get so depressed." He said, nodding assuredly. "Canada is by his side, and he knows how to handle him when he gets like that." He added as a reminder, before he removed his hand from the others shoulder to further support the other man by his side.

"I should probably attend _le Ministre_ to someone more capable to get him going." He said, as he began to walk away from the other.

He turned his head after walking for a bit, only to tell the other one last thing.

"Listen to me thought, Mon Cher." He said. "Don't go to him right away, you should probably give him some time…" he said as he trailed of and resumed his walk down the hall.

"By tomorrow, _I'm sure_, he will be fit to confront you, and _you him_." He added, before he turned right and disappeared with the Minister down another hall.

There, in the same place, stood the personification of the United States, frozen as he brooded on what to say to his beloved English nation the following morning.

* * *

After getting pampered and fussed over by his former charge, England was finally alone in his room, and in his bed. And alone with his thoughts and loudly pounding heart in his chest.

He swallowed hard before he hid his head under the warm blanket. _He wouldn't get much sleep tonight, that's was for sure._

* * *

**_"Hmm..."_ A shadowed creature hummed in the darkness of the chilly London night. Cold and harsh winds slashed through the streets and the figures clothes, chilling an ordinary man to the bone by its unmerciful touch. But not this one. For this person was not human.**

**"I see you made it, after all _My dear England_." The figure mused, as he juggled an apple in his left hand, throwing it high up in the air, only to catch it, over and over again.**

**"But I am not surprised, after all, you were once _soo great_." The person said, almost in a purr, as he grabbed the blood red apple firmly in his palm, squeezing it hard.**

**_"But…"_ he said, his voice velvety smooth. "This was but the beginning of something so, soo _much bigger_," he said darkly, as he shot down, only to take a large, hash bite on the apple.**

**A big grin then plastered itself on the dark man's face, as he gave an evil chuckle, golden juices trailing down his chin.**

**_"Till next time, Sugar."_ He whispered, before he disappeared, only a half-eaten apple glistering in the light from the nearest streetlight acknowledging his existent as he disappears into the dark streets of London.**

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**Note: And I give you... The culprit and the one responsible for hurting our England! (heh heh heh...)**

**I thought I should atleast give you all a little sneak peak on this mystery person, and now you know he is spying on him! And watching him from the shadows...**

**Again, sorry for the borning chapter, fun is about to start, I promise!~~**

**Till next time sweeties~~**


	11. The Announcement Part 1

**London Bridge Is Falling Down, My Fair Lady**

** A USUK FANFIC**

**Note:** **THANK YOU! THANK YOU ALL ALOT! Over 100 followers, I can hardly believe it! You don't know how happy it made me, but this is how I repay you? By being gone for so long.  . . ! Really and honestly!**

**And not only have I been gone, I give you this chapter that I think sucks, which I have been working with for so long and that is only now finished!**

**My writing flow have been sad lately, but I hope it will get better...**

**Anyhow, here is the next chapter, and after this it will get a lot more serious! Both good and _bad..._**

**_Please, I hope you will enjoy, nevertheless!_**

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**Chapter. 10 The Announcement – We stand as One-**

**Part 1.**

The day that followed his and America's bosses visit was dreadful. France and Canada had thought that they'd done them a favor by not being present by his side that morning, allowing the two of some privacy to sort out their differences and set things straight, once and for all.

But the seemingly kind gesture had back fired, and that with all its might. The two English speaking nations had rarely spoken at all since the early morning hours. It was then when the American had knocked on his door and had after that, very awkwardly, stuffed a big bouquet of roses into his arms with a red face, to then only a second later run out, wide eyed, in search for a vase, leaving the Brit speechless and in shock.

And this awkward silence had been going on for several hours now, none of them knowing what to say or what to do. The American had been practically restless, not able to sit still for very long. Now and again he got up only to start pacing around the room, and to tend to the flowers that stood by a round table a few feet from the bed.

Dark bags shone clearly in the soft morning light under the Americans glasses, and England was positive he didn't look any better. Sleep hadn't been kind to him, just as he had predicted, and he felt exhausted.

England noticed all this, but he had especially noticed one thing in particular. The American never met his eyes; not even once since he got there.

That revelation made his stomach hurt, and him feeling cold all over. _"He cannot..."_ he thought sadly. _"He cannot even look me in the eyes…"_

Just as he tried to curl into himself for comfort he suddenly felt a bolt of pain struck through him, and he started to cough violently without any warning.

The sudden change of events made the American jump before he all but threw himself at the Brit, nearly tipping the table in his haste.

"England!" he yelled franticly, panic clear in his eyes. "England, are you alright?" he asked, as he grabbed the other's shoulders trying to get him to sit up straight, as he was bent over while the coughs rang through him uncontrollably.

England felt his eyes starting to water as the coughs never seemed to want to end, and only intensify.

It hurt so much with every second that passed, and he could faintly hear and feel the American's panic stricken voice and comforting pats on his back, but he was in no shape to answer. In a flash, his eyes widen when a very loud cough came, and he could feel that something was coming up, threatening to escape his mouth. He quickly covered is mouth in fear, but he couldn't escape the inevitable. A second later he could feel a some kind of liquid escape him, and he felt it pour down between his fingers that desperately tried to keep it in.

America acted in a very controlled way then, as the turn of events changed. He quickly got a hold on a bowl that was on the side of the bed and placed it in the small Brit's lap. The clear and translucent liquid was thick, and seemed to be some kind of mixture of saliva and expectoration.

As the Brit painfully heaved up the strange liquid, tears fell slowly down his red cheeks, as every time he felt a wave of pain when he was forced to cough up the substance in between small breaks.

When he finally seemed to be through with it all, he curled up and into himself, as he was about to do before it all happened, and hid his face from view for the American nation.

America watched patiently throughout the others struggle, and it pained him to see the other in the pain he was in. All he could do for the other, to aid him, was to continuously caress the others back slowly in a comforting manner. When the Island nation stopped heaving, he slowly put the bowl down onto the floor, as he watched the other drew away from him, and curling up in defense, just like a hedgehog would do when faced with a car.

It hurt America to see how the other turned his back on him, but he knew the other all too well to know exactly what he was feeling as of now.

The former empire was clearly embarrassed, and to show another person his weaknesses or being vulnerable in front of someone was the last thing his former guardian wished to do or be; that he knew.

America had really only on one occasion seen England in such a state before this incident, and that was years ago. The memory of that evening was not a pleasant one and it was not one of his best memories.

An embarrassed England was, on a normal day and occasion, quite easy to handle. But this was different. This was more than embarrassed;_ it was embarrassment laced with shame and fear._

He could clearly see by the way the other was curled up so protectively and how his shoulder seemed to shake, by only faintly as if he was cold, and how his fists were clenched firmly on the blanket surrounding his delicate form.

Slowly, very slowly, America got closer to the curled up ball of white and embraced the one inside softly. He could feel the other tense up remarkably, but when not seeing any flying fists being thrown at him, he only secured his hold on the other in a firmer embrace, while resting his head on the others shoulder.

After sitting there for several minutes, it wasn't after a lengthy while that he could feel the other shuffle around beneath him, and then hear a muffled but soft voice speak up from under the blanket.

"I'm sorry." A weak voice pronounced, as a ruffled head of blond and emerald eyes peeked out from its confined, still avoiding the others gaze.

America, whose eyes had widened on hearing the other talk after so long in silence, couldn't help but wonder why the other felt the need to apologize. Just as he was about to embrace the other once more, and question his statement, the others next words that came from his mouth took him completely off guard.

_"Why haven't you left already?"_

With wide eyes, the Americans could do nothing but stare at the other, trying desperately to grasp what the other had said. He was just about to frown, and ready to lecture the other for his crazy statement when he got a quick glimpse of the other's eyes, that where still on anything else but himself.

Green eyes showed a vulnerability he'd never seen before, sadness so much deeper than that of when you shed bitter tears.

The younger nation could feel a pang of guilty creep through, as he monitored the other with uncertain blue eyes.

"Artie…" he began slowly, as he tried to reach for the others arm to grab it, only to meet thin air.

This did, however, upset the youth remarkably. In stubborn anger, he firmly took a hold on the others two wrists, squeezing them hard as he tugged the Brit's small form further and closer to his face.

_"Now listen here…!"_ he said, his voice serious and without any hint of playfulness to it.

As cerulean blue eyes burning into shocked green, The Island nation had a hard time grasping the sudden change of events, and the Americans sudden change of attitude.

When America was sure that he had the Britons full and outermost attention, he loosened his grip slightly on the others hands.

"You should know, or _I_ think you should, after yesterday," he trailed off, never breaking the strong hold he had on the other's eyes. An intake of breath went unnoticeably by the other, but by the one guilty of it, it felt like his whole frame was rocking and shaking.

"I wouldn't wish to be anywhere else right now, or with _anyone else_!" America said sternly, tugging the other closer by the still caught slender wrists, so close that their noses was mere inches away from touching.

A quiet startled yelp was heard from the smaller male, as his eyes widen further as he could feel the Americans breath grazing his lips and mixing with his own frantic breathing.

America watched on quietly, his eyes never wavering from its spot, not breaking eye contact. He watched and noticed, rather amused, that the other look very much like a deer caught by headlights the way his slightly watery eyes stared into his, fear so great it was almost slightly unnerving. Did he still not believe him?

For a moment, America felt completely crestfallen; his face mirroring a defeated expression as he finally broke their intense eye contact, breaking their silent bond.

But, as the hero and great nation that he was, that soon ran out in the sand as he could feel his blood boiling slightly in anticipation, making his next action a much bolder one than he had ever thought of doing before.

Yes, for never had he intended for their first real intimate get go to go like _this; _but life and faith seemed to go ways one can't decide in advance.

* * *

Because it wasn't before he felt the others lips on his that the reality really sunk in. That he kissed England. That he _was_ kissing England! His head screamed at him to run away to break this sudden contact, but his heart told another story. Because feeling the others lips against his and tasting him in a way he had always secretly dreamed of, he felt nothing but bliss. _He felt complete._

This revelation made him bolder, and his heart sang when he realized that the other was not moving away from him. With this new confidence, he pushed further as he coaxed the Brit to allow him to deepen their sudden kiss.

It wasn't until then that the other finally got over the first initial shock, and finally let all his highly protected walls on his heart scatter, along with his doubt. England could do nothing to hold back the tears that began to fall like rivers down his red cheeks as he opened up his mouth to allow the others tongue access.

Though it was a slow and tender kiss, the emotions that flowed out was nothing but raw yearning and passion.

They both could feel how much love they both held for one another, and how much they wanted each other not only emotionally but physically too, but for now they didn't know how to initiate that kind of emotions.

The two English speaking nations felt content in their current state; their own bubble of much longed serenity. The only thing that was said for hours to come was when America gently wiped away the remaining tears from England's face after their first kiss and the Island nation said the words he had always dreamed of hearing.

_"I love you too, America."_

* * *

Later that day, the big and warm smiles of two people watched their respective brother and old friend sleeping soundly and deeply; hands together and fingers intertwined. As they left the room, an echo of and whisper vibrated through the late evening air;

_"Enfin, finalement…"_

**Finally, at last.**

* * *

**Note: I someone want, they can send wishes of what they wish and want to happen from now on and I might intertwine them into the story! It can really be anything! Don't be shy! :) **

**Please, R&R? I do like to know what you guys think!**


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